


Quitting While Ahead

by notmadderred



Series: Daredevil/Punisher Fics [18]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Prompt: skull, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27266659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmadderred/pseuds/notmadderred
Summary: What few mercs were here were now gone, nevertheless. Frank and Matt were working in tandem to get the civilians out; out because the building was getting blown up; out because they were inside as it was collapsing.Matt was panicking. It was familiar, horribly so, a series of bubbles popping within him, startling him, shaking his resolve.“How many more, Red?” Frank growled out as they rushed side-by-side deeper into the building.“Four. They’re not moving, I-- they may be stuck.”
Relationships: Frank Castle & Matt Murdock, Frank Castle/Matt Murdock, Luke Cage & Danny Rand
Series: Daredevil/Punisher Fics [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1245263
Comments: 16
Kudos: 120
Collections: Fratt Week





	Quitting While Ahead

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Fratt Week, y'all

Matt was beginning to panic.

He knew how to control it now, somewhat, his ragged breathing growing steadier, longer. His motions became more deliberate -- no trusting instinct like this, everything had to be calculated.

But he was still panicking, his mind screaming at him to run, his surroundings becoming blurred to his senses every time his grip on control loosened even just a smidge.

Frank was here as well. They must have been hunting two tentacles of the same octopus, then -- Matt hadn’t sensed him around any of his own leads, but here they were.

What few mercs were here were now gone, nevertheless. Frank and Matt were working in tandem to get the civilians out; out because the building was getting blown up; out because they were inside as it was collapsing.

He was panicking. It was familiar, horribly so, a series of bubbles popping within him, startling him, shaking his resolve.

“How many more, Red?” Frank growled out as they rushed side-by-side deeper into the building.

“Four. They’re not moving, I-- they may be stuck.”

Frank hadn’t questioned how Matt knew how many people were left or where they were. He accepted it, and they both moved on, no time to concentrate on the specifics, on the fact that they were working together without fists or guns or bloodshed, on the fact that this had happened before. 

Frank grunted in affirmation. “Lead the way. I’ll keep followin’ right behind you.”

Matt nodded and kept weaving through. The infrastructure had failed on that side. No part of him wanted to go, but… but there were civilians, and unless the panic was clouding him thoroughly, he was near certain that one was a child.

They kept moving, pushing forward over crumbled pieces, jogging through a single hallway that looked clear.

Another explosion boomed throughout just as they reached three of the civilians.

Two of them were helping a woman whose arms were stuck under rubble. They were sweating, afraid, heads swiveling until they landed on Matt and Frank.

Relief and fear pounded through them. Frank immediately moved to the opposite side of the rubble. “Pick up on three, everyone,” he said, voice even.

They nodded, and Matt got into position.

“One. Two. Three.”

They heaved upwards, only barely managing to get the piece up. The woman slithered out immediately, and the rubble dropped, scattering dust across the floor.

Matt gasped, coughed to clear his lungs, then made vague motions at Frank pointing toward the exit. “You get them out. I’m gonna get the kid. Go.”

Frank froze, only briefly, at the mention of a kid. Matt could only imagine what he was thinking. Frank was probably paranoid, wanting to save the kid himself. But only Matt would be able to find him quickly.

It all happened in less than a second, then Frank was mumbling, “Stay safe, Red,” and hurrying the other civilians out.

Matt followed the heartbeat to its fluttery source, eventually locating it under a desk behind cabinet drawers. He was hiding.

The desk was lopsided, already taking damage. It wouldn’t sustain another hit, and several more hits were coming.

Matt leaned down and opened the door. “Hey, there,” he said, and the child cowered backwards, driving himself deeper into the corner. “I’m here to get you out. Can you take my hand?”

He reached out, wriggling his fingers just a bit as he did so.

The child shook his head. “Devil,” he said. He was shaking, hugging his knees, fear clinging to him, much as it was clinging to Matt. “The D- Devil can’t save me.”

_Shit._ This was bound to bite him in the ass at one point or another.

“I’m not the Devil,” he said, tone soft and placating. With only a beat of hesitation -- _there wasn’t time_ \-- he slipped off the mask and attempted a half-smile. “Human, just like you. But I need your help to get out of here.”

The child was staring. “I’m… John,” he eventually said. 

Another boom emanated throughout, and John cowered further. “Nice to meet you, John,” Matt said, even as his body was grating to grab the kid and run. It was beginning to look like the only option. “We have to go now.” He moved to put the mask on, only for John to vigorously shake his head. Matt resisted the urge to curse and shoved it away. 

The ceiling was beginning to crack.

No time.

Matt grabbed John, pulling him from the cabinet, and began to run. For a moment, John screamed, only to tuck his head into Matt’s chest and begin gripping at the suit.

Shit. _Shit._ He hadn’t been paying enough attention. The main passageway was blocked now. He’d have to go back and-- _shit._

Everything was closing in.

Panic filtered outwards, and for several seconds he was consumed by it, lost entirely, holding this kid and standing with no direction and--

Deep breath.

Matt paced backwards, stumbling slightly over debris.

Focus. Turn upwards. What was happening upstairs would be coming down soon.

He turned his senses upwards.

His body went numb. Nowhere to go. It was happening again, and he had nowhere to go, and--

The collapse came forward in a single, impossibly fast drive downwards. Matt threw the child under a pile of cement barely enough to hold him, but the brace would take most of the impact, he’d be hurt but-- but most likely safe and--

He tasted something sweet and rubbery at the base of his tongue, and then there was nothing.

The building was in the final stages of its collapse, and Red and the kid still weren’t out.

Frank rushed back in without thinking.

Most of the familiar path was coated in dust and debris, nearly impossible to see around let alone get through. Frank kept pressing forward, ignoring the minor, careless cuts as he maneuvered more precarious situations. No fucking way Red was able to get through this with a kid. Alone, maybe. But Red wouldn’t do that.

He wasn’t sure which direction they could have gone in. Maybe Red found a different exit entirely. But with his stiff, jittery movements, Frank wasn’t certain even Red had the best idea of what he could do.

And if he remembered correctly, apparently the man had already been under one dying building. Frank imagined that a second one wasn’t doing any favors.

Another bomb was setting off. More shit began coming through the ceiling. “Fuck,” he muttered, and began prowling forward even faster. If he didn’t find them soon, he’d have to either go deeper and most likely not get out, or leave himself and hope Red had made it.

He slid over a piece blocking the central hallway, evading falling pieces to his best ability, to find a completely ravaged room.

More was still coming downwards -- this was the middle of the building.

Red was on the floor, motionless. Blood was seeping from his head, which was maskless, turned to the side.

There were a few things to take in, but Frank was focused on two of them: Red was Matt Murdock. This was a fact, and he could move on for now, worry about it later regardless of what it was already sending spiraling through his thoughts. Second: half of Red’s head was under a large piece of cement, and there was no doubt in Frank’s mind that a good part of his skull had been crushed.

A quick survey of the area later, and he saw the kid under a tent-like fort of debris. It had caved in. The kid looked unconscious, but he was taking labored breaths, hands twitching.

This was worst-case scenario shit.

He wanted to be objective.

If he left Red, Red would keep bleeding and die if he wasn’t already dead. 

Frank couldn’t leave the kid no matter what.

But, objectively as things were progressing, he needed to leave Red.

He cursed, scraped his hands through his hair, and spat. Fuck.

He didn’t want this. Frank hated how it made him feel, hated how it struck at the shit he’d put aside in favor of being fucking reasonable, instead of following emotions for the shit it’d caused him in the past.

He cared far too fucking much about Red -- about Matt Murdock -- and he hated the man for it.

The sounds began to close out. Debris stopped falling.

Frank stopped moving.

This was buying him time.

He could stabilize Red enough to move him. If he just did that, he could carry them both.

Frank didn’t give himself even a moment to reconsider, leaning down to do another quick check of the kid -- no injuries beyond concussion, it looked like -- and twisted around to--

Another piece fell.

Frank scrambled back, trying to get out of its way, swooping his legs out and--

It landed.

Frank’s head reared back, and he withheld a yell or scream or _whatever_ was coming by biting his tongue. The familiar taste of metal ran down his throat, and he dropped to the floor, heaving, hands in fists and eventually panting as the initial surges of pain began spiking up his spine, into his head, and back down again.

He couldn’t make enough sense of the pain to determine whether or not his legs had been broken. It was safer to assume they were.

Darkness edged at the corners of his vision. He fought against it enough for his body to lean up, to see if there was any way he could free himself.

‘Course not. 

Red was still bleeding out, just within his line of sight. Frank set his jaw. He was too far away, couldn’t fucking reach him. But from here he could see the breathing. 

It was somehow worse being here, unable to do anything yet knowing he potentially could have.

He twisted his body back to the kid under the tent of debris. “Kid,” he said, and the word felt like acid. He spat out blood and placed his weight on his elbow. Pain was still in his core, running through every nerve now, screaming in warning. He tried to ignore it. “Kid,” he repeated. “You gotta get up. You gotta wake up.” Frank reached out his arm, but it wasn’t nearly enough; he wasn’t nearly close enough.

He couldn’t fucking do _anything_.

With a grunt, Frank laid back down and closed his eyes. _Fuck._

“They’re alive,” Danny repeated to Luke for what was the umpteenth time today. Luke was probably annoyed by this point. At the very least, he was doubtful. “I can still feel it. They’re in here somewhere.”

Danny parkoured over a particularly nasty set-up of debris, and Luke cleared the way. “I hear ya,” Luke said, and he was glancing around like he didn’t really. People rarely did.

Danny closed his eyes and kept moving forward. “Next room.”

He felt Luke push ahead of him, continuing to clear the way. After a moment. “Danny! Get in here.”

He stepped in. Both the Punisher and Matt -- Daredevil -- were on the floor under concrete, prone and bleeding or stuck or something. It didn’t look good.

Matt looked dead.

The Punisher blinked, looking blinded, but waking nonetheless. “Wh-- _shit_.”

“I take off the debris, you heal what you can. Right, Slim?”

Same wavelength. Danny could already feel the force within him growing. “Right.”

“Wrong,” the Punisher -- Frank Castle? Frank, definitely -- growled out, even going so far as to bite his tongue from the pain as Luke lifted the debris. An admirable feat. “Re--” He gritted his teeth. “Red first.”

Danny glanced at Matt, anxiety broiling within him. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. Drawing parallels was easy, with Matt’s head of the ground, inevitably looking crushed, blood spread around him.

He wasn’t sure he could do it.

Something tight pooled in his chest.

He breathed around it, letting the ch’i flow within every part of him, prodding at that anxiety.

Danny would need to do more than ignore it for this to work. 

“I can handle your injuries better than his,” he said. He wasn’t even sure if the Punisher -- _Frank_ \-- knew what he meant, that he could heal, theoretically.

“Du’n’t matter,” Frank said. “Him first.”

Luke looked at Danny, his shoulders loosening only slightly. Luke could read him too easily. “You got this. Just lemme know when to lift. You only got so long before--”

“I know,” Danny said, making a face. “Alright. You count down from three.”

He knelt down, closer to Matt’s face. It was worse, the closer he saw it -- his face unnaturally pale. It looked frostbitten. 

“Three. Two. One.” 

Luke lifted.

Danny let the force sharpen to his palms and immediately placed them across Matt’s skull, going deeper than he anticipated from the fracture. Considerable damage. Very considerable damage.

He breathed in, and let himself become a part of Matt.

The fucking ninja-kid was glowing.

Frank thought, only for a second, that he may have been seeing things, the pain and effort of staying conscious draining his mental state. But it started with the kid’s hand and crawled upward along his arms, lining his veins. When he opened his eyes, they were like fucking lightbulbs.

Luke Cage, Power-Man as some folks were calling him, looked concerned, confused.

“Ain’t fuckin’ normal,” Frank said. His head was pounding. He’d already earned a glance at his legs and saw a hint at the state -- nothing he could snuff his nose at. 

Cage crossed his arms. “No. Not even for Danny.”

Danny. Frank hadn’t had a name for the kid. 

Kid. Shit. _Fuck._ He swung wildly around, back to the spot where the child from before had been stored, unconscious.

He was still there. His eyes were open, and they met Frank’s and suddenly became much more frightened.

Not the fucking point. “Cage,” he said, leaning up with a wince. Cage turned to him, eyebrows drawn inwards, arms crossed. Frank angled his head at the child.

Cage’s demeanor changed entirely.

He knelt down, stance turning inward as if to make himself look smaller. Hardly fucking possible.

Dots danced in the corner of Frank’s vision.

He dropped down this time, head hitting the floor, and for a moment all his thoughts were a familiar concentration on his brain, on the wet kind of pain that resided there.

His face was turned toward Red’s.

Danny was shaking, hovering closely over Red’s body.

Frank’s eyes closed.

Danny felt like a part of him was simultaneously exploding and unraveling itself within him.

Even still, he kept control, ignoring the flaring pain in his skull that was no doubt a reflection of Matt’s injuries -- it meant he was doing something right. Probably. Most likely. Hopefully.

He couldn’t exactly see what he was doing anymore, not even when he opened his eyes in an attempt to see if he made any progress. But he was weakening now, drained almost entirely, and he wasn’t even sure if he was actually conscious or just dreaming that he was.

There were some scattered voices in the background of his focus, maybe his name.

Danny bowed in closer. He would know when it was done. He had to.

There was a shuttering gasp beneath him. He had an instinct to be comforting, but he couldn’t do it yet. It was close.

Something kicked out from under him.

Danny’s head dropped suddenly, vision going entirely black for a moment. He barely reeled himself back up. “Uh--” He gave it one last push, feeling for a moment Matt’s unadulterated panic, feeling for a moment as Matt felt Danny’s own unadulterated anxiety, and then it was done.

Danny tried not to collapse on top of Matt, instead dropping to the concrete next to him. “Ow,” he said.

When he blinked a few times, he could see clearly again. He was sweating and shaking and barely conscious, but he was alive and, apparently, so was Matt.

Matt’s gaze was landing somewhere behind Danny, and his expression was wholly vulnerable, afraid. “Where-- what did I--” He shook out his head and brought a masked hand to his hair. 

“It worked,” said Danny, unable to help his own smile. “It…”

Matt was inclined to believe he had died.

Evidence was that he wasn’t dead, seeing as he was sitting up and able to start letting his senses filter in, making sense of his surroundings.

“Where--” was he? In the building still; it had collapsed, _finished_ collapsing and the kid, John, was gone, maybe safe? “What did I…” He’d died. Or, he felt like he’d died. He felt himself fracture and break and die, and then all his thoughts were that of dying and being dead.

He shook his head. Matt was wrong, apparently. He felt… off. Different. He couldn’t place it; not completely. But he remembered enough of what happened that… Matt lifted a hand to his hair. The glove made contact, of course; he’d forgotten he wore them when in uniform, only his hair was exposed his face was exposed and fuck _fuck_ there were other people here and--

He took a breath. He could smell blood. It was thick in his hair; he didn’t need to feel for it. Blood was pooled on the ground, right where his head had been laying.

The people around him were Frank and Danny. Danny had been holding him, doing… something, Matt wasn’t sure what. Luke was coming to the site as well, smelling like John. That’s how John had gotten to safety.

Danny was feverish, shaking, sweating, half-conscious. Whatever he had done to Matt apparently wasn’t any good for him. Matt had half a mind to snap at him, to tell Danny that whatever he’d done wasn’t worth putting himself in a state like this.

But Frank was right there, head facing Matt’s direction. 

A wave of fear pulsed through him -- Frank was unconscious, his breathing labored. Both of his legs were broken in several places, left side femur taking the brunt of the damage in a way that probably felt as bad as Matt had not too long ago. But he was alive. Matt allowed himself to keep breathing.

Danny was saying something deliriously, and then Luke finally made it. “Holy crap,” said Luke. “It worked.”

Frank woke up at the sound of the voice, his eyelids fluttering.

Matt didn’t allow himself to linger on Luke’s words. He made his way to Frank’s side, hands hovering his body as he assessed the damage -- legs being the worst of it, but there was plenty alongside it. “Frank,” he said. “Why the hell did you come back in?”

Frank huffed, then immediately coughed out blood. “Fuckin’ _lawyer_ \--”

“Shut up,” he said, and Frank did another huffing, painful-looking laugh. Matt ignored the way it twisted his stomach a different way, instead grabbing his mask and pulling it back on. He turned to Luke and Danny. “We--”

“I can try to help him too,” Danny rushed out before Matt could finish. He was still on the floor, still half-conscious. Matt wasn’t sure Danny even noticed. “I--”

“You did enough, Danny,” Luke interrupted, sounding stern and immediately leading Danny to snap his jaw shut. “May have just brought a man back from the dead. You don’t even look like you can walk right now.” He crossed his arms and angled his head toward Matt. “We need to get out of here. How you feelin’?”

“Fine,” said Matt. He thought it over. It… wasn’t a lie. “Good,” he adjusted. “You’ll have better luck carrying Frank. I can help Danny. Both of Frank’s legs are fractured, and you’ll need to be wary of his femurs especially.” He’d rather be the one to get Frank out of here himself, but there was no way he’d manage it without jostling something or making another injury worse. 

Frank made a noise of protest. “Don’ need to bring m--”

“Not your choice to make,” said Luke. “And I’ll bring him,” he continued to Matt. “Danny’s got a place we can head to and obviously can get some decent doctors if we need ‘em. Or he can try to do some healing stuff himself if he’s feeling better _later_.”

Danny hummed and turned sharply away, squinting petulantly. But he didn’t fight back against that.

“Healing?” said Matt. “Was I actually dead?”

“Dunno. Didn’t check. The Punisher here just said to fix you first.”

“Ya looked like shit,” Frank grunted. He was sitting up, barely, his arms obviously straining.

“Well, regardless of how bad I may have looked, you’re the one who probably looks like shit now. And we need to leave. Recovery teams are starting to comb through.”

“Gotcha,” said Luke, and he immediately scooped Frank off the floor.

Frank made a surprised noise, eyes momentarily going wide and arms flailing. Apparently the movement was too fast for his brain though, as he immediately fell back into unconsciousness.

“That works,” said Matt, trying not to grin. 

And trying not to think closely about what happened to him before Danny came alone.

He stuck out a hand to Danny, who took it with a small, “Thanks.”

Matt also heaved him up far too quickly. Unlike Luke, his action was intentional, and then Danny, too, was unconscious in Matt’s arms. “South side is the most clear,” he said, pointing his head in that direction. “I can get us out.”

Luke may have been smirking. “Go on ahead.”

Matt had actually gotten to be awake and aware when Danny did his thing again. Despite the damage being primarily in Frank’s legs, Danny’s hand was over Frank’s chest as he worked. Matt’s senses were practically blinded by whatever he was doing, a static of white noise disorienting him until Danny apparently finished, and the noise receded.

“Uh,” said Danny, sounding a minute from throwing up. “I’m getting better at it, I think. Practice makes perfect and all that.”

“Don’t puke on me,” said Matt.

“I’m not gonna puke!”

“Sure. But if you do, don’t do it on me. And maybe leave the room. It’s pungent.”

“I _just said I wasn’t_ \--”

“Stop takin’ the bait,” said Luke, clapping a hand on Danny’s shoulder. 

Matt smirked, barely resisting the urge to snort. All that aside, Danny actually had done good work. Whatever it was that he got with the Iron Fist seemed… something. Matt couldn’t place it, as it seemed irrevocably out of place. But it worked. Frank’s bones were set in place, the smaller injuries gone entirely. It didn’t make sense. 

It also, not for the first time, made Matt wonder what had been so wrong with him that Danny had been left like _that_ after healing him. 

Frank grunted and shifted on the makeshift hospital bed.

“He’s about to wake up,” said Matt, moving closer and tucking his hands under his armpits. He’d forgone the mask again: Danny and Luke had known for a while, and Frank had already seen. No point in hiding now.

Luke nudged Danny. “We’ll give you two some space. Danny needs to rest again, anyway.”

Matt nodded, largely tuning out the rest of what was said until the door shut.

Frank’s eyes opened. He wrinkled his nose and sat up. “Shit,” he said. “Did that Danny-kid do the glowing shit on me?”

“I didn’t realize he actually glowed, but yes. He did.”

Frank swung his legs off the side of the bed and looked up at Matt. “Can’t say that ain’t useful.”

Matt shrugged, feeling jittery. He was expecting something different when Frank finally woke. “I suppose you can’t.”

Frank studied him for several moments. Matt forced himself not to shift under the weight of the gaze.

Frank sighed. “Thought you’d died there, Red. You got your fuckin’ skull cracked open.”

Matt’s body went numb. “What?”

“Mm. Probably needed those brains to practice law.”

“What?” Matt repeated. “Is that a joke?”

“Only kinda. You got yourself in deep shit there.”

Fuck.

He brought a hand to his head once more, gloveless this time. It was still bloody, but part of him was expecting to find something else.

“Kid healed you up, Red.” Frank stood up, grabbed Matt’s hand, and gently brought it back down. “You’re fine.”

Matt swallowed thickly. “So are you, apparently.”

Frank released his hand and nodded, head shifting around like he was studying the room. “Had me worried there.” 

Matt bit his lip, considering, steadying his breathing and his heart rate. “You had me worried, too. You’re lucky Danny was able to heal you up -- we assumed he wouldn’t have enough juice, or… whatever it is he uses to do that.”

Frank cocked his head at Matt. He was already relaxed in his footing, as though nothing had happened at all. Matt’s head still felt itchy from the knowledge of what happened alone.

“I’m… glad you’re alright,” said Matt.

Frank had stopped shifting. 

“Uh,” said Matt. “So. I’m Daredevil. As I’m sure you figured it out.”

“Mm. Quite a surprise, I’d say. Had other things to focus on when I first saw ya there.”

Matt blinked. “Where?”

“On the floor dyin’. Your mask was off. That was for the kid, wasn’t it?”

Matt turned away and nodded.

“Good man.”

“Not the best description of me,” Matt countered, looking back with a sarcastic grin. “I think ‘hypocrite’ suits me best.”

Frank released a long, slow sigh and sat down on the bed before patting the spot next to him. After a moment’s hesitation, Matt joined him.

“You’re a dumbass, Red,” he said.

“Jesus, you--”

“I admire you, ya know. Maybe you’re a dumbass and a hypocrite.” Frank shrugged. “Still a good man.”

Matt shifted only slightly, and then his shoulder was resting against Frank’s. “You’re the worst. But you’re a decent guy, too. When you try, at least.”

Frank laughed, a sharp, sudden thing, and he bumped Matt with his elbow. “Right,” he drawled.

There was a long pause in the conversation. Both of them were leaving something unsaid, and Matt was afraid to be the first to push it. ‘Man Without Fear Has One Fear.’ “I… don’t mind working with you, you know.”

“Oh, you don’t mind?” Frank said, the lilt of his tone hinting as a half-grin. “High praise comin’ from the solo devil.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m messin’ with you, Red. I don’t mind workin’ with you either. Though I ain’t a fan of walkin’ into scenes like that.”

“It wasn’t on purpose.”

“I know. But you were antsy as hell that whole time. You coulda gotten out on time and avoided that.” He turned his gaze forward. “Shouldn’t’a let you go back in lookin’ like that.”

Matt tilted his head, first left, then right. “Maybe next time we’re in that situation, you can just yell at me. We can figure something out that doesn’t end up with both of us out of commission.” And needing luck to save them in the form of one Danny Rand.

“Mm. Would rather not have to rely on that kid there.”

Matt smiled. “Too proud to need saving?”

“You were thinkin’ the same thing.”

“How would you know? Jackass. At least I didn’t need carrying around by Luke Cage like a real damsel in distress.”

Frank was smiling again, a small thing, but it was lingering. “You’re just jealous, ain’t ya.”

“Oh, yeah. Real jealous. And I’m sure that you’re jealous of Danny since I was carrying him instead of you.”

Frank chuckled, the noise rumbling through his core and against Matt in a delightful way. “Yeah. Definitely jealous of ‘im.”

Matt cleared his throat suddenly and turned away. 

Frank’s chin dropped, and he was still chuckling, this time just stealing glances in Matt’s direction. “You know, Red, you ain’t the best at hiding that blush.”

Matt scowled. “You really are a jackass.” He faced Frank solely to fix him with the impression of a glare, nevermind that he was absolutely still blushing like a fucking schoolkid. 

“Alright, I’ll stop. I’ll even let you claim it’s ‘cuz of that head injury.”

He could take the out, even if they both knew at face-value what it was. “I’m not so low as to resign to that.”

Frank was still grinning. “Right.”

“It was funny.”

“Right,” Frank repeated, slower this time.

“And Foggy is very good at describing faces.”

“What’s that gotta do with it?”

“And this is why I hate you.” Matt jumped off the bed. “I should get back, anyway. Foggy’s probably getting worried.”

“What, he waitin’ at home for you?”

“ _No_ , he’s just-- I’m--”

Frank rose as well and examined Matt, eventually bringing a hand to his hair. Matt tried to ignore his own skittering heart beat. “You need to wash out the blood.” His hand lingered for another moment before he finally let it drop to his side.

“I can smell it. There’s a lot.” He wrinkled his nose. “You’re a bit bloodied up, too.”

Frank’s face shifted, and then he settled again with just a nod.

Matt squinted. “You were about to say something bad, weren’t you?”

“You’d have to tell me what ya mean by ‘bad.’ But if you mean somethin’ to embarrass you? Absolutely.”

Matt huffed. “You really are a decent guy if you stopped yourself. Either that or you would’ve embarrassed yourself just as much as me.”

“We’ll go with decent guy, how’s that?”

Matt took a step closer to him. “It was definitely that second option.”

“I’m pretty sure you were mopin’ just about two minutes ago.”

He glowered again. “I’m always moping.”

“Fair ‘nough.” 

“Good. Now I’m gonna head back to my apartment and shower. You can also come, but we aren’t showering together.”

Frank’s eyebrows shot up and he laughed again. “ _Jesus_ , Red. Full of surprises.”

Maybe. Definitely. Surprising even himself here. “Guess so. Are you coming or not?”

Frank inhaled, heartbeat still resoundingly calm. “Sure, Red. Maybe I’ll even cook you dinner.”

Matt’s heart was still all over the place. “Fine. It’s a date.”

Frank’s heart finally did a small scattering. Matt couldn’t help a pleased smile. “Fine, Red. That it is.”


End file.
